On stormy nights,
when the ailing sky
wails and whines
outside my door,
I remember how
you’d walk out
onto the balcony,
catch the threads
of lightning,
and pull them
out of the clouds
to relieve them
of the rain
that pains them.
And I remember how
you’d weave
those strands
into a curtain
to hang
over our bedroom window
so I could sleep
through the storm.